


Sober Now for Four Whole Months

by Anonymous



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Drug Addiction, Drug Withdrawal, Drugs, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Heavy Angst, Implied Overdose, Implied vomiting, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Narcotics, Narcotics Anonymous, Nausea, Overdosing, Recovery, Relapse, drug relapse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-26
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-02 06:13:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8653867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Kuroo still remembered the mornings he would wake up to find a worried Bokuto and emotionless Tsukishima hovering over him. As much as Tsukishima looked emotionless, Kuroo could read him; he would see the pure terror and sorrow in his lover’s eyes.
 ---------------The one where Kuroo spent two years ruining his body with drugs, and his battle to get clean.----   Thank you so much for this getting 100 kudos??? I'm in so much shock bless you all, this means so much.





	1. Recovery

**Author's Note:**

> Please note: This fiction isn't sugar coated. Well, I suppose it is to a degree. This fiction contains all the ugly little details of drug addiction, although I chose to not go into too much detail in fear of triggering myself. 
> 
> Drugs are not a romantic thing, and I figured with all the drug tropes in the world of fan fiction, I'd write something that doesn't fit to the whole "I stopped doing drugs for you, I love you". If you're looking for that kind of fiction, this is not the work you're looking for.
> 
> This is quite hard hitting, please be extremely careful if you have a previous addiction or are going through drug related problems at the moment. If you're unsure, please give this fiction a skip; I'd hate for any of you to be triggered by this.
> 
> Note: written therapeutically to celebrate four months sober. Hate, rudeness, etc, will NOT be tolerated.
> 
>  
> 
> [Suggested Listening](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dDxgSvJINlU)

Two years of nothing. Two years of wasting his life. Two years of terrifying those he loved.

 

Kuroo still remembered the mornings he would wake up to find a worried Bokuto and emotionless Tsukishima hovering over him. As much as Tsukishima looked emotionless, Kuroo could read him; he would see the pure terror and sorrow in his lover’s eyes. Tears would well in Kuroo’s own eyes, and he’d struggle to breathe for a moment. Guilt would fester in his stomach, make him heave till he had to roll over and find the bin placed by the bed. He’d heave and heave until he was pale and sweaty; he’d heave until there was nothing but bile to come out and sweat dripped off his body.  
  
The bed behind him would dip and a long, slender arm would hook around his waist; it was partly to stop Kuroo rolling off the bed, but it was mainly there for comfort. Comforting circles would be rubbed into his hips, his legs, his back, and a muscular arm would wipe at his mouth gently, clearing the mess away amassed around his lips. He’d break down properly then. The tears wouldn’t just well in his eyes. They’d pour down his cheeks, making his clammy skin burn underneath them. They’d drip into the bin and he’d choke out the same promises like he always did. Never again. He’d get better. They’d never find him like this again.

 

But they always found him like this.  
  
Every Monday morning when Kuroo didn’t come to university, when he missed sports education class first thing; Bokuto would ring Tsukishima and they’d find him a crumpled mess, like a rag doll thrown to the ground in his hidey-hole. Every Saturday morning when Kuroo never came home from university; Tsukishima would find him and stand alone as he watched Kuroo helplessly heave everything out of his body. Every Sunday afternoon when Kuroo missed double date night with Bokuto and Akaashi, Tsukishima and Bokuto would find him in an alleyway, curled up in a sleeping bag and barely conscious.  
  
Kuroo couldn’t remember when it had become almost every morning he’d wake up to Tsukishima’s terrified eyes and Bokuto’s worrisome face. Every morning, he’d hear them have a hushed conversation in the kitchen as they fetched him some water to rinse his mouth out, and some food that he’d struggle to keep down for hours to keep his stomach full. _It’s too frequent. He needs help. We need to get him help. He’s going to die._  
  
It had been during his second year that they weren’t there when he first woke up. No one was there when his eyes flickered open. There were the sounds of machines beeping, something pushing air in and out next to him, and a harsh florescent light glaring down into his eyes. It took him time to piece together where he was, what had happened. His head was pounding and he wished the light could be switched off. There was an ache deep in the bottom of his stomach and it made him feel ill, but he could feel his stomach, painfully empty. He tried to speak, but his throat was so dry; it made his eyes leak tears of pain. Everything ached, it was too much, and slowly, the room faded back to black.  
  
When Kuroo resurfaced from the dark of what he wished had been a painless sleep, he could hear crying in the room. Soft, muted, as though whoever was crying didn’t want to wake someone up, or that they didn’t want to be heard. His head turned to the sound, and when his eyes flickered open to the still painful florescent light, he saw his Mother. Her face was buried in her hands. Tsukishima was next to her, staring out the window. Kuroo didn’t think he’d ever seen Tsukishima look so painfully upset, as though he was dying. Tsukishima’s head turned and they made eye contact. _Don’t cry Tsukki, you’re too pretty to cry_. But Tsukishima’s face had scrunched up and he’d started crying. He sobbed so hard, Kuroo could feel the bed shake, where Tsukishima’s knees were pressed up against it. He was enveloped in a tight hug, one that hurt, it hurt, but Kuroo clung to Tsukishima, clung to the pain and whispered sweet promises in his ear. He wasn’t doing this again. He wouldn’t leave him, not this way. He’d get better.  
  
It wasn’t long after he’d been discharged from hospital; _you almost died, we almost lost you. You need to pick yourself up, young man_ , that Kuroo found he would sneak out of bed. Tsukishima asleep, lost to the world in his dreams, never heard him put his jacket on and steal out of their apartment – or so Kuroo thought. He’d find someone who was selling, curl up in his usual hidey-hole, and lose himself to the effects. He’d fall asleep there, wake up by the blaring alarm on his phone, and struggle his way home to slip into bed before Tsukishima woke up. Kuroo always saw the glint of Tsukishima’s eyes from the light slipping around their curtains. Neither of them acknowledged it.  
  
It was two months of sneaking around at night, clawing his way back to the apartment when Kuroo got home one morning to find Tsukishima awake. There was a suitcase on the bed, half packed with Tsukishima’s clothes, some of his favourite CDs, DVDs and books. The cuddly toy he slept with at night – ask him about it and be shot down at your own risk. _I can’t do this any more_. Kuroo blinked silently, staring at the blond as he continued to pack. _I’m staying at my brother’s for a_ _while_. Another blink from Kuroo. It was bright and he couldn’t focus properly. _Clean yourself up. This isn’t it for us, not yet. I want to help you… but you have to want to help yourself_. Kuroo blinked. The tears started coming. The realisation hit him. _Tsukki, you can’t leave me_. Silence as a reply. Tsukishima continued packing. Kuroo sunk onto the bed, staring at the floor. Tsukishima did his suitcase up, put his headphones around his neck and pulled his coat on. Kuroo watched his delicate hands as he wrapped a scarf around his neck, making sure they weren’t tight around his headphones. _Clean yourself up. Please. This can’t be the end for you._ The apartment door shutting. Kuroo went to the window. A few minutes later, Tsukishima clambered into a taxi; he must be getting a plane to Miyagi, rather than the bullet train. Kuroo sat back down on the bed. He lay down and he sobbed into the pillow until his tears ran dry. He didn’t know what to do; he couldn’t think about what was happening. He found his stash under the mattress and lost himself from his own mind.

 

It was when his stash ran dry and Kuroo was too depressed to leave the apartment as he stared out of the window of his bedroom. It had been a month since Tsukishima had left to stay with his brother, somewhere in the suburbs of Miyagi. Either there was really poor internet connection and signal there, or Tsukishima was choosing to ignore him. Maybe it was too painful for Tsukishima. Kuroo couldn’t blame him. He didn’t know how he’d feel to seeing Tsukishima almost succumb to death, only to immediately go straight back to the cause of it only weeks later. Kuroo looked at himself in the mirror. The muscle from playing volleyball since he was a child was gone. His arms hung limply by his side. His extra large shirt hung limply, like they used to on Tsukishima. Kuroo could just about see his ribs through the fabric. He didn’t remember the last time he ate. Kuroo knew it was the effects of what he was taking. He knew that he just wasn’t hungry when he came to and was too busy with his next hit to think about things like that. Kuroo sat at the desk, staring blankly at the laptop screen that had opened Google almost twenty minutes ago. His fingers numbly typed three words, and the rehab centres within Tokyo popped up on his screen. He reached for his phone, crying softly as he typed the words. _Bo, I know you’re mad at me… but will you check out a rehabilitation centre with me, bro?_ The two worded reply had made Kuroo’s heart sing, but he found he couldn’t stop himself wishing it was Tsukishima saying _of course!_  
  
The first four they’d looked at hadn’t appealed to Kuroo. He didn’t like the look of other ‘house mates’. He didn’t like the look of the grounds. That doctor looked too strange. That centre looked like a drug den. It wasn’t until they found the fifth one that Kuroo found he was thinking seriously about it. They had a gymnasium and a _heated swimming pool_. The cost was something Kuroo could afford without having to dip into his and Tsukishima’s joint bank account or Bokuto to pester him to let him help with the pricing. The house mates seemed like good people, the ones he met anyway. The grounds were large, vast, and Kuroo could see a sports area at the bottom – he thought he saw a volleyball net, but maybe he was hallucinating it. The doctors didn’t look strange. The centre was big, and neat but not too clean like the inside of a hospital. Kuroo signed up quickly, and Bokuto brought him a suitcase of clothes and entertainment the next day. Kuroo refused to look back.  
  
Kuroo hadn’t thought it would have been this difficult. His skin itched and he scratched it until he bled. He screamed and screamed to try and drown out the voice in his head until he coughed up blood because he’d ripped his throat. He’d buried his face in his pillows and almost hyperventilated. He’d thrashed around, begged the nurses for a hit. He’d begged the few friends he’d made in the first day. He’d begged Bokuto when he visited him; _just one, that’s all just one and I’m done for good I swear_. Eventually, Kuroo had to be restrained when he found the strength to push past the nurses, almost making it out the door before his legs collapsed underneath him. He’d been sedated and slept for three days. The voice had gone quiet when Kuroo woke up again, a dark room greeting him.  
  
It was only two weeks into his first month there when there was a knock on Kuroo’s door. _You have a visitor, and he said he really needed to see you_. Kuroo didn’t know if he was feeling up to seeing Bokuto, but he reluctantly left his room. The four walls were a source of comfort. He was twitching, shaking, and he didn’t want Bokuto to see him at his weakest. Well, Kuroo supposed Bokuto had seen him much worse. Bokuto had seen him a wreck after a hit, had seen him laying in a hospital bed after an overdose, had seen him thrashing around as he begged Bokuto to get him a hit. But when Kuroo walked into the visiting room, it wasn’t a mess of silver and black hair waiting for him.  
There were blond, curled locks, golden-brown eyes, and a soft smile as Tsukishima stood up, rushing across the room to hug Kuroo. _Bokuto told me you were here… I just… didn’t think it was true. You’re really trying! I’m so proud of you, Tetsu_. It didn’t hurt that Tsukishima had doubted him. Fuck that, it hurt like a knife severing his spinal cord, but he understood. Tsukishima had lay there and listened to Kuroo get high after he’d just recovered from an overdose.  
They chatted for a while, caught up. Tsukishima had finally completed his thesis and had been accepted onto his Masters degree. He’d met his nephews for the first time, the two twins his brother had months ago – Kuroo remembered a hushed conversation on the phone; _I wish I could come Aki, but I just… I just can’t leave Kuroo alone or with just Bokuto… I’m sorry_. Tsukishima had gone to England for a week on a university trip; had made friends, had reconnected with the Karasuno team. Kuroo hung his head as he admitted he had kept using since Tsukishima left. Tsukishima didn’t sound surprised when he replied. _But you’re here, Tetsu. You’re working through your problems and you’re going to beat them. I know you can do this_. Kuroo could manage a smile before they started talking again. Tsukishima was back in Tokyo; was sleeping in their apartment and had gotten back the day before. They talked for close to an hour before his leg starting shaking, rocking up and down. He tried to stop it, but Tsukishima noticed it and slowly stood. _It’s getting late. I should go back to the apartment anyway; I have things I need to study for and forms I have to fill out._ Kuroo asked him not to leave so soon, but Tsukishima waved him off and promised to visit next week on his day off. He pressed a kiss to Kuroo’s lips and then left, waving from the window before Kuroo finally retreated back to his room.

 

The first month had been hell. He sat in the Narcotics Anonymous meetings, trying not to fall asleep. It wasn’t anything against his fellow house mates, but this wasn’t something he wanted to do. He struggled to communicate his thoughts, why he started – _I don’t even know, I guess I just don’t remember my stressor –_ and struggled to talk about the demons that clawed at his insides. He was awarded a one month chip which he didn’t put on his keyring like the rest of the group. Kuroo slipped it in an envelope and mailed it to the apartment, Tsukishima’s name on the front.  
  
The second month slipped by without Kuroo even really realising it. His routine had become his life, and it was just one day at a time; the constant mantra repeated since he had gotten there. Take it one day at a time, focus on getting through the day at hand clean – and that’s what Kuroo did. He swam in the mornings, for two hours, taking as many breaks as he needed. He ate lunch. He worked out in the gymnasium. He played volleyball with a few of the other guys who had played in high school before they dropped out or left or graduated. He had dinner. He went to Narcotics Anonymous. He read a book from the library. He went to sleep. The next day, Kuroo’s routine started again. And again. And again. The only changes were on Sunday, when Tsukishima would visit for an hour, sometimes two. They’d share a cup of coffee and walk through the grounds. Sometimes, they’d be convinced into a first to 12 points match of volleyball. Mostly, they sat in the visiting room and talk.  
Tsukishima was the top of his Master’s class, currently, on track for his PhD. Palaeontology. He was working with Tokyo Museum in the evenings, taking care of the fossils they owned, working in the back until 11pm after university. Bokuto, Kuroo was told, was currently going for a professional career in volleyball – he had a try out for a national team that evening, and was going his best. Kuroo had told Tsukishima to tell Bokuto he wished him the best. When Tsukishima left, Kuroo saw his one and two month chips hanging off of Tsukishima’s key rings.  
  
His third month in rehab, Kuroo found himself restless. He didn’t understand why he was still there. Training in the gymnasium took up most of his time, often forgetting to stop for lunch. After dinner, he could be found there until the early hours of the morning before he would leave to finally sleep. Kuroo’s body had filled back out with muscle, he was looking less tired and less… like a drug addict. He was looking healthy and Kuroo thought he might have even looked better than when he was playing volleyball. When he had his usual check in with his Doctor, Kuroo explained he wanted to go home. He was clean, he knew it. His demons weren’t clawing at him any more. He didn’t shake and twitch any more. He didn’t wake up in the middle of the night sweating and panting, trying to find a hit in his room. _I promise, I’ve gotten through it. I just… really want to go home. This is a great home away from home but… I miss my friends, my family, my_ _ **life**_ _._ The reply had been simple. Kuroo would find a Narcotics Anonymous group in Tokyo to attend, and they sat for a while, searching. Kuroo finally picked two possibilities. The one at Tokyo University – he thought it would be nice to be near Tsukishima; but if Tsukishima didn’t want the affiliation, he would go to the one that was hosted near Nekoma. The other condition was that someone from the clinic checked in on him once a month. Kuroo had gladly accepted.  
  
The next day, Tsukishima was stood in the door way of the rehab centre, smiling softly at Kuroo as he walked towards him. Kuroo dropped his suitcase and scooped Tsukishima up in his arms, spinning him around before they kissed softly. When they got in the car, Kuroo noticed his third month chip now dangling proudly on the car key chain next to his first two.  
  
But that had been a month ago.

 

Now, Kuroo was working on his degree – an online university degree was the best option for him, he’d decided; he didn’t want to put too much stress on straight away – typing furiously at his essay. In twenty minutes, Tsukishima would be home, and Kuroo wanted it done before then. He wanted to surprise Tsukishima as he walked in the doorway, hold his four month chip up proudly. Tsukishima would smile softly and slip into his lap and kiss him softly. Maybe they’d open a bottle of wine and cuddle on the couch. Really, he just wanted to hear Tsukishima whisper that he was proud of Kuroo. Smiling at the thought, Kuroo forced himself not to rush his summary and then saved it, uploaded it and got up. Coffee for the both of them. That would be a good idea.  
  
Kuroo stood to head into the kitchen, and opened the cupboards. He pulled the coffee can off the shelf, and then paused. There was a box that looked vaguely familiar, at the back of the cupboard, packed in behind the cans of soup. He pulled it out, and stared at the box of pills in his hand. The label on the front said _Tsukishima Kei. Two nightly, to be taken with food_. Kuroo froze. _Codeine phosphate. 15 mg Tablets. Oral Use. 28 tablets._ Kuroo’s demons screamed at him. The voice in his head picked back up. Kuroo shook for the first time in two months. His fingers went to open it, and he froze.  
  
Kuroo thought back over the three months. The hell of withdrawal. The struggle to find who he was again after two years. He thought back over the two years. Waking up in hospital after almost dying. Having to drop out of university because the drugs had consumed him. He looked at his laptop, where his university page was open. He thought about how hard he’d worked. Kuroo stared back at the box. He pushed the opening flap back inside the box and dropped it on the coffee table in the living room.  
  
The demons clawed a little softer. The voice in his head quietened a little. His shaking relented.  
  
The door opened and Kuroo looked up to see an exhausted Tsukishima in the door way – exhausted, but his eyes screamed with happiness when he saw Kuroo. The blond put his bags down on the floor and then made his way across the living room, straight into the kitchen with a gentle kiss.  
  
Tsukishima said nothing and leant on the side, an eyebrow raised. Kuroo smiled and reached into his jeans pocket to pull the little golden chip out his pocket. Tsukishima broke into a smile.  
  
“I’m so proud of you.”  
  
“I’m proud of myself.”  
  
They leaned in for a gentle kiss and then Kuroo turned back to making the coffees. Tsukishima stretched and walked back to the living room to take his jacket and scarf off, hanging them up.  
  
“I got some grilled salted mackerel pike from that place you love.”  
  
Kuroo laughed. “You spoil me.”  
  
Silence followed his remark and Kuroo cleared his throat. When he headed into the living room, Tsukishima was, predictably, holding the box of pills in his hands. He swallowed and turned.  
  
“I haven’t taken any. I found them in the cupboard, at the back. I don’t know if you were taking them or what but however many were in there are still in there.”  
  
Tsukishima hesitated. “I trust you but...”  
  
“Check if you want to. I can imagine there’s a paranoia and fear that goes along with our relationship now.”  
  
Tsukishima nodded, his lips a thin line as he headed into the kitchen, away from Kuroo’s eyes. Kuroo sipped his coffee, and after about five minutes, Tsukishima came back. “Well done. I’m proud. Do I need to take you to an emergency NA meeting or…?”  
  
Kuroo shook his head, beaming over his coffee. “I’m good, honestly.” He hesitated. “Can I ask why you have them?”  
  
Tsukishima picked up his coffee and sipped it before moving to get the bag of take out food. “In England, remember I told you I went to England? We went to London and went to the National History Museum and did other historic tourist things.”  
  
“The things you’ve been begging me to do for a year, yeah.”  
  
“I was in an accident there. Nothing serious. I fell down the stairs of the hotel we were staying at, and busted my back. They’re strong painkillers… well I don’t need to tell you that. But it hurts to lay down. I’m on them whilst I finish physiotherapy.”  
  
Kuroo nodded and took a breath. “I know I sound like a total hypocrite,” he followed Tsukishima into the kitchen as he started plating the food and pouring wine into two glasses. “But there’s nothing I need to worry about… is there?”  
  
Tsukishima smiled. “No, there isn’t. I promise. I only have that box and then one more and then they won’t be in the house any more.”  
  
Kuroo nodded. “Keep them as long as you need.”  
  
Tsukishima pursed his lips. “Happy four months clean, Tetsu.”  
  
“Thank you, Princess.”  
  
Tsukishima glared at him and stalked through to the living room. Kuroo followed with a bright laugh and they settled to eat and drink on the couch. Kuroo got to choose what they wanted to watch – but they still ended up watching a dinosaur documentary. Well, when Tsukishima lit up when he had flicked past it, Kuroo just had to put it on, didn’t he?  
  
When they were finished eating, and were curled up under a blanket, Kuroo stared at Tsukishima. He was intently invested in the documentary, mouth parted a little. Occasionally, he would snort and correct a fact under his breath.  
  
Kuroo stared a little longer, amazed Tsukishima had stuck around. Tsukishima had every right in the world to walk away from Kuroo during those two years, he had every single right and he had stuck around. He’d been stressed, worried, and no doubt going out of his mind when Kuroo wouldn’t return all night and had to be found in the streets. Kuroo was amazed. Tsukishima hadn’t pressured him to get clean, not really. Tsukishima had realised that _Kuroo_ had to want it, that _Kuroo_ had wanted to get clean for it to really work with as little risk of relapse as possible.  
  
Eventually, he couldn’t handle the sneaking around; Tsukishima couldn’t listen to the sneaking around, knowing what Kuroo was doing whilst he slept just a room away, unable to do anything. He needed a change of scenery. Kuroo didn’t want to know how long it would have if he didn’t go to rehab that Tsukishima would have called it quits for good. Tsukishima had been a support for him in rehab, his weekly visits being the thing that Kuroo looked forward to the most.  
  
Kuroo leaned in and pressed a kiss to Tsukishima’s temple, making the blond jump a little. “I love you… Thank you so much.”  
  
Tsukishima blushed a little and turned to kiss Kuroo softly.  
  
As they snuggled back down, Kuroo held Tsukishima tightly. Those two years had been hell, worse than hell.  
  
Kuroo wouldn’t give up this moment for even a minute of that euphoric hell.


	2. Relapse

The urges had come out of nowhere.  
The demons had clawed at his mind all day, and he had snapped.  
  
Tsukishima had been on edge all day, teeth gritting whenever Kuroo had been slightly too loud. His face contorted whenever Kuroo suggested they do something, and the black haired male recognised the tell tale signs of Tsukishima stressing over an exam. It was worth a large percentage of his grade, and Kuroo watched his lover spend days at a time pouring over his text book, walking around the kitchen mumbling facts about himself, and ignoring Kuroo as much as possible.  
  
It wasn’t easy; Kuroo knew it was just Tsukishima’s way of preparing himself for exams and important tests, and he watched on with silent eyes. The first few hours had been fine, but it had gotten to the point where Tsukishima was extra irritable, snapping if Kuroo made too much noise typing at his laptop. His anxieties picked up, picking at his brain. _He hates you, he doesn’t want you here_. Kuroo closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. Tsukishima did this; he didn’t hate him, he was safe in their apartment. Yet, the more Tsukishima got annoyed; with every hitch in his breath of irritation, Kuroo felt more and more insecure.  
  
Finally, Kuroo decided he needed a walk, and stood. He let his knees knock the coffee table, making Tsukishima’s head whip around to scowl. Kuroo watched Tsukishima from the corner of his eye; the blond kept his eyes on the elder as he pulled a coat on, sighing as he did so. As he picked up his keys and wallet, he made sure to slam the door.   
  
The air was getting colder the closer they got to December and January, and Kuroo shivered in his coat. He turned the collars up towards the cold and damp and then buried his hands in his pockets. He liked the cold, really. It chilled you, made your exposed skin ache and burn, and it gave you time to think. Out here, the anxiety relinquished it’s hold on Kuroo, making him look at it much more logically – Tsukishima was just being his usual self, focusing on his studies and getting irritated when his concentration broke. It was the normal and had been since high school. Kuroo didn’t know why it was giving him anxiety now.  
  
Kuroo kept walking, lost in his head, not really thinking about where he was going, until he stopped, almost walking into someone.  
  
Blinking, Kuroo looked around, eyes wide. Fear churned in his stomach as he realised he’d walked into the area of their neighbourhood with extremely high drug use – and where he’d come often to meet dealers and get high with people. His demons were there immediately, screaming at him. _You’ve come this far, Tetsurou, a hit would be a blessing. The haze, the numbness. Tsukishima’s irritation with you wouldn’t matter any more._  
  
Kuroo shook his head, stumbling backwards, only for his eyes to lock onto someone’s that he recognised. He blinked a few times, and the man made his way over, eyebrow raised.  
  
“Kuroo Tetsurou… Word is you went to rehab and got yourself all cleaned up for that pretty little boy toy of yours.”  
  
Kuroo’s lips pulled into a scowl. “I got clean for myself. My _boyfriend_ did nothing but support me, Hitsugaya.”  
  
Hitsugaya Ichigo stood at his full height, three centimetres taller than Kuroo, with a frown set deep in his face. His dark eyes glared at him, barely blinking, drinking him in. Kuroo felt like he was being analysed by a predator. His hair, pitch black, shone in the beginning to dim light. His gaunt face was accentuated by black, sunken eyes, broadcasting his addiction. His lips continued to frown, before they pulled up into a smile, that one could either call welcoming, or dangerous.

 

“Forgive me, Kuroo, that was no way to welcome an old friend. How have you been?”   
  
Kuroo frowned a little, an eyebrow raising, but he shrugged. “I’ve been good. Got myself back on track. About to celebrate five months sober. Studying an online university degree. Boyfriend moved back in. Reconnected with old friends.” Kuroo shrugged again. “Life has been pretty good for me.”  
  
Hitsugaya chuckled and nodded, his hands delving into his pockets. “Sounds like it has been pretty good for you… but why are you back here?”  
  
Kuroo watched Histugaya’s hand move in his pocket, in the same way they did as he grasped something – usually, a hit of Kuroo’s just before he pulled it out – and he looked away sharply. “I was going for a walk and got lost in my head. Nothing more to it.”  
  
“Are you sure you don’t want a taste of who you were?” Before Kuroo could say anything, there was a bag of pills in Hitsugaya’s hand and he stepped back, almost tripping over with how quickly he moved.  
  
“I don’t want that shit any more. I’m clean. Leave me alone.” Kuroo turned, and stalked off, shoulders hunched high as he ignored Hitsugaya’s yells after him.

 

-xox-

 

Kuroo had been strong, he had been. He had forced himself not to take the drugs, to allow the temptation to pull him back into hell, but seeing the pills in the small bag had been more than enough to send his demons into overdrive. They yanked at his mind, screamed at him until he had migraines that made it impossible to get out of bed, and wore him down and down.   
  
Bokuto, Akaashi and Tsukishima could all see something was wrong, but Kuroo refused to let them know. He refused to let them know how close he had come to falling, to losing five months sober, to giving in. If they knew, they’d lose faith in him, pity him, _disgust_ him, and he couldn’t handle that. Not after he had come so far already. So he sat in silence and struggled. He lost focus on things that came so easily, would miss easy spikes in volleyball, would struggle to eat. It was wearing him down and he knew that he needed help before he lost it again.  
  
He went to an emergency Narcotics Anonymous meeting the week after the confrontation had happened. Sat in silence, listening to those around him – people he had come to call friends – share their stories of relapse and struggle. When it was his turn to share, Kuroo felt his throat close up and he shook his head. “Been the same as usual. Handling everything pretty alright.” People nodded and it moved on, and Kuroo cursed himself; he should have reached out for help.  
  
Kuroo walked back to his shared apartment slowly, kicking a stone as he went. He was weak, he could feel it. His head ached from the pure screaming that never relented in his head; the demon hands clawing at his brain till it hurt and felt like it was bleeding beneath his skull. Before Kuroo knew what he was doing, he was knocking on the door to Histugaya’s tear down house, broken and falling to pieces, staring defiantly when the door opened.  
  
“Kuroo-”  
  
“-I want a hit.”

-xox-

 

Kuroo lay on the bed, spacing out, higher than he remembered being before. His limbs felt heavy and his mind was _quiet_ , oh so _quiet_. He could relax like this – Tsukishima was on a trip with university, wouldn’t be back for a few days. Bokuto and Akaashi were on a couples retreat for the weekend. Kuroo didn’t have a job at the moment, he didn’t have to be anywhere. He could sober up enough for NA on Sunday, and that was it.  
  
So he lay there, weightless but heavy, floating but sinking on the bed, smiling as he felt relief. His degree meant nothing, the stress was gone. He didn’t feel like Tsukishima was angry with any more. He didn’t feel the crushing weight of trying to stay clean. It was gone. It was all gone, and he could relax for the first time in almost five months.  
  
Kuroo had been high for a while already, and he could feel himself starting to come down – cons of resistance due to years of drug abuse. He felt everything starting to come back and he rolled over to fish for the bag of pills hidden under the bed. Within seconds, regret hit him. He felt ill. Kuroo felt his stomach churn under his weight as he hesitated. He had just thrown away almost five months hard work because he hadn’t reached out and couldn’t get support. Because he _wouldn’t_ let himself get support. His body began to shake, violently, and he rolled back over to sit upright, hugging his knees tightly to his chest. Tears began to form in his eyes and he rolled over, checking the time. It was only ten to eleven at night, Tsukishima would probably still be awake.  
  
With a shaking hand, Kuroo reached out for his phone, hands barely able to hold it as he typed a small _can we call?_ to Tsukishima. Dread filled his heart – he needed his boyfriend, and he didn’t want to disturb Bokuto and Akaashi right now. Before Kuroo could think about what he was going to do if Tsukishima couldn’t call him, the soft ringtone that indicated Tsukishima was calling him echoed around the room, and Kuroo slid the slider across to answer.  
  
“Tetsu? Are you alright?”  
  
“N-No.” Kuroo sniffed a little, wiping a sleeved hand across half of his face.   
  
“Tetsu? Talk to me, what’s happening?”  
  
“I… I uh… relapsed. I’m sorry I couldn’t help it I just-”  
  
“-It’s okay. Take deep breaths for me. Inhale for four seconds, hold it for two seconds, and then exhale for five for me.”  
  
Kuroo closed his eyes and focused on his breathing and Tsukishima’s voice on the other end of the phone, letting himself work through the process of recovering his breathing and calming down. It took him a few minutes but he could breathe again, could think a little clearer.  
  
“Kei, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m so sorry-”  
  
“- _Tetsu_ , calm down. It’s okay. Relapse and recovery go hand in hand. Relapse is bound to happen at least once, especially with how addicted you were. It’s going to be okay.” There was a pause on the phone and then Tsukishima was talking again. “I need you to answer me some questions, love.”  
  
“I-I can try.”  
  
“Good, you’re doing really good. Have you got any more pills there?”  
  
“Y-Yes.”  
  
“Okay. Akiteru is in town for two weeks with his family. I’m going to text him to come pick them up. He’s going to stay with you for the night and take you to an emergency Narcotics Anonymous meeting either tonight or tomorrow morning, okay?”  
  
“N-No! No, please don’t bother him I don’t want t-to be a b-bother.”  
  
“Tetsu love, you’re not a bother. Aki sees you as a brother, he wants you to be safe and wants to help you recover. It’s okay, he can help. He won’t be angry or upset, I promise; just concerned for your safety.”  
  
“A-Are you sure?”  
  
“One hundred percent, Tetsu.”  
  
Kuroo stared at the dark curtains covering the window as he considered his options. He couldn’t safely get rid of the pills until the morning, and he was definitely sure he wouldn’t be able to hold off from taking more if they weren’t out of the apartment. With a hard swallow, he nodded and opened his mouth. The cracking voice that left his vocal chords didn’t sound like him, and Kuroo wondered where he had disappeared to. “O-Okay… ask Akiteru to come round, please.”  
  
“Texting him now love. He’ll be there in about twenty minutes. Do you want me to stay on the- Be right there! - Do you want me to stay on the phone until he gets there?”  
  
“N-No you have somewhere you need to be; I-I’ll be okay.”  
  
“Do you want me to get Akiteru to call you?”  
  
“I-I’ll see if Akaashi is busy.”  
  
“Alright love. Stay safe, Tetsu, and stay strong. I know you can beat this again.”  
  
“I love you, Kei.”  
  
“I love you, too, Tetsurou.”  
  
The line went dead and Kuroo had a strong urge to fling his phone at the wall and scream but he forced himself to open messages and to send a quick text to Akaashi asking if he was available. A text came back replying that he was and Kuroo asked if he could call. Without even texting back, the phone in Kuroo’s hand buzzed and he settled down to talk to Akaashi, even if it was just to find out how the weekend was going.

 

-xox-

 

The sound of the door clicking opening distracted Kuroo from Akaashi’s soothing voice on the line, and he cleared his throat. “Hey, Akaashi, it’s great you two are having a good time, but I have to go for a bit. Company over.”  
  
“Alright, Kuroo, stay safe.”  
  
The line disconnected and Kuroo sat up as the light in the hallway went on, Akiteru peering around the corner.  
  
“Hey, Kei texted me...”  
  
“Hey Akiteru.” Kuroo smiled weakly in the dim light and curled up to hug his knees, watching Akiteru as he glanced around. “The pills are under the bed. Zip lock bag. Clear.”  
  
Akiteru nodded and sunk to his knees, searching with his phone light before he pulled it out, disappearing out of the room. There was rustling, a zipper closing and then Akiteru made his way back to sit on the bed with Kuroo. “Have you looked for NA meetings?”  
  
Kuroo shook his head, picking at his fingernails. The guilt was starting to curl around his stomach now his high was almost gone, almost disappeared, and _shame_ was screaming around his head. “No I called a friend for a while.”  
  
“Alright… there’s one about twenty minutes away starting at midnight. It’s twenty past eleven now… do you wanna make a move?”  
  
“I-I haven’t eaten all day.”  
  
“We can stop for food, it’s alright.”  
  
Kuroo hesitated before slowly standing, finding some shoes to shove his feet haphazardly into. “I think getting out the apartment would be good.”   
  
Akiteru smiled and disappeared back into the living room. When Kuroo made his way there, five minutes later, Akiteru was holding his jacket out. Kuroo took it with a smile and gladly pulled it on, following Akiteru out of the apartment and down the stairs.

 

-xox-

 

Kuroo sat in the corner of the Narcotics Anonymous meeting, leg bouncing up and down, junk food in his stomach curdling. He had never felt so ashamed in his life; having to admit failing his recovery, one of the things that meant the most to him. Akiteru’s hand appeared on Kuroo’s thigh, just above his knee. It squeezed reassuringly, and Akiteru offered him a soft smile. Kuroo managed to return it before he looked around at the assortment of people around the room.  
  
He had never been to this group before; he didn’t recognise anyone here, and before he knew it, everyone was staring at him. He cleared his throat.  
  
“H-Hi I’m Kuroo. I normally go to the Monday afternoon meetings over at the university.” He paused and licked his lips. “I’m here to return my four month chip because I… I relapsed back onto codeine earlier today.”   
  
A few people offered sympathetic smiles, offering hope and kindness and Kuroo returned them softly. His shaking hands pulled his keys out his pocket, barely able to hold them as he took hold of the golden chip shining up at him. Finally, he managed it and slipped it onto the table.  
  
“Why did you relapse, Kuroo? If you’d like to share.” The person sat at the head of the table, taking the meeting, offered a smile and Kuroo hesitated.  
  
“I… I bumped into my old dealer. He offered me a pack and I turned around and said no. This was about a week ago. I’ve been under stress with university. Keep feeling like my boyfriend is exasperated at me. I didn’t… I didn’t want to think for a while. Kept thinking of euphoria and I just… went to his house earlier today and bought some without thinking. I got high and as I came down, guilt hit me and I rang my boyfriend who got me to come here with his brother whilst he’s out of town.”  
  
People nodded and smiled and Kuroo managed to smile back again. His leg stopped bouncing and his stomach stopped churning. He began feeling peace in his mind again, his demons tamed and calmed for now. Slowly, he leant back in his chair, watching the other people beginning to share. With a smile at Akiteru, he relaxed and he listened.   
  
Recovery was going to be hard, but he was making the journey again – he wasn’t going to let one relapse screw him over.


End file.
